Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 142: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

1382 And go he did. The picture was still on at the theater, and with a beating heart Rodney took his seat to watch it. He could scarcely wait for the prelim- inary scenes. He knew no bit of the plot or what happened to the characters. He sat tense and watchful for the appearance of the crowd in the meadow. At last it came—and he nearly sprang from his seat. It was Betty! Betty Varian herself—he could not be mistaken! She wore a simple gingham frock, a plain straw hat, and had no sign of the smartness that always characterized Betty’s clothes, but he could not be deceived in that face, that dear, lovely face of Betty herself! And he saw her lips were moving. He could not read them, as the girl who told of it had done, but he imagined she said, ‘“‘I am Betty Varian. I am Betty Varian.” Yet her face was expressionless. She had no eager air of imparting information, no apparent interest on the scene about her. The face in the screen seemed like that of an automaton saying the words as if from a lesson. Rod couldn’t understand it. He feared that it was merely a chance likeness, he had heard of exact doubles, and as the scene passed, and the crowd on the meadow re- turned no more to the story, he left his seat and went in search of the owner of the theater. But all his questioning failed to elicit any information as to the scene or where it was taken. The theatrical manager ar- ranged for his pictures through an agent and knew nothing of the company that took it or the author of the play. The next morning Rodney tried again to locate the producer; but, failing, decided to return home and put the matter in the hands of Pennington Wise. He was sure the girl on the screen was Betty, yet had he been told authoritatively that it was not he could believe himself the victim of a case of mistaken identity. He related his experience to Minna and Zizi, and they both felt there was little to hope for a result. “You see,” Zizi explained it, “ when those crowds are picked up at random that «. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. way they are always chatting about their own affairs. Now, it may well be this girl had been reading the circulars about Betty, also she may have been told how much she looked like her, and that would ex- plain her speaking the name. And except for the actual name, I don’t believe that Ella Sheridan person read it right.” “‘T don’t either,”’ Minna agreed. “I wish I could see something in it, Rod, but it’s too absurd to think of Betty in the mov- ing pictures, even by chance, as you say. And, too, where could she be that she would saunter out and join in a public picture like that?” ‘““T know it seems utterly absurd, but it was Betty. It was, it was! When will Mr. Wise be back, Zizi?” ‘““T had a letter this morning, and he says not to expect him before the end of the week, at least. He is on an important trail and has to go to a distant town. Then he will come back here.” ‘Oh, I want to consult him about this thing.”” Rodney looked disconsolate. “Work at it yourself, Rod,” Zizi ad- vised him. ‘“ Get lists of the picture-mak- ing companies, write to them all, and track down that film. Go to it!” “‘T will,” Rodney declared and forthwith set about it. ““ Now I want to go off on a little trip,” Zizi said to Minna. “ And I don’t want to say where I’m going, for it may turn out a wild-goose chase. The idea is not a very big one—yet it might be the means of finding out a lot of the mystery. Anyway, I want to go and I’ll be back in three days, or four at most.” “I hate to have you leave me, Zizi,” Minna answered, “ but if it means a chance, take it. Get back as soon as you can. I’ve grown to depend on you for all my help and cheer.” So Zizi packed her bag and departed. With her she took a letter that she had abstracted from a drawer of Minna Varian’s writing-desk, a letter postmarked Green- vale, Vermont, written at the time of Betty’s birth. She had taken it without leave, indeed without the owner’s knowledge, but she felt the end justified the means. comicloool C©